


years kept in minutes

by peaceoutofthepieces



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaceoutofthepieces/pseuds/peaceoutofthepieces
Summary: The house was quiet and dark as he kicked his shoes off in the hallway, also tugging off his hat and jacket to hang them on the hooks by the door. The silence was almost eerie, the house dead. Sander tossed his bag into the corner and crept down the hallway, thankful for how well he had come to know Robbe’s home in the past year. He navigated the space automatically, and finally found a light on in the kitchen. He pushed the door open, expecting to find Robbe on the other side, busy at the oven or the kettle or the sink, or already sat at the table.Instead he found an oddly familiar sight. The table was covered with treats, an array of all of Sander’s favourites, and in the middle sat one of Robbe’s sneakers with a note sticking out.That was unexpected.~^~Posted for the Skam Holiday Event on tumblr.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72
Collections: SKAM HOLIDAY EVENT 2020





	years kept in minutes

Sander obeyed Robbe’s orders and entered the house on his own, finding it unlocked. He shivered as he stepped out of the cold and became enveloped in warmth, closing the door behind him and shaking off a few damp spots of snow. The anticipation had risen to an almost unbearable level. It wasn’t unusual, to spend the entire day eagerly awaiting the chance to see Robbe. In fact it was probably his main pastime. He was used to it by now, the ache of absence and the rush of reunion, Robbe always the central focus. 

He was excited to see Robbe at any time. But tonight they had the house to themselves, with Robbe’s mother gone to see family before the holidays, and the boy had promised Sander a _surprise_. 

It seemed odd, only a few days before Christmas, and Sander had been racking his brain the entire day in an attempt to guess what his boyfriend might be up to. The wink Robbe had added to his text gave him some idea, but Sander didn’t want to assume. 

The house was quiet and dark as he kicked his shoes off in the hallway, also tugging off his hat and jacket to hang them on the hooks by the door. The silence was almost eerie, the house dead. Sander tossed his bag into the corner and crept down the hallway, thankful for how well he had come to know Robbe’s home in the past year. He navigated the space automatically, and finally found a light on in the kitchen. He pushed the door open, expecting to find Robbe on the other side, busy at the oven or the kettle or the sink, or already sat at the table. 

Instead he found an oddly familiar sight. The table was covered with treats, an array of all of Sander’s favourites, and in the middle sat one of Robbe’s sneakers with a note sticking out. 

That was unexpected. 

Sander stared at the display with a smile tugging at his lips. He slowly wandered closer, fingering the edge of the brown paper sticking from the shoe before taking it out and unrolling it. His smile grew as he skimmed over the contents. 

_Dear Sander,_  
_I heard you’ve been a particularly good boyfriend this year. Even though sometimes you tease him. I know it hasn’t always been easy, but you’ve still done so well and for that you deserve a reward. Turn around._

Sander snorted at the rather ominous ending, even though his chest felt tight and a pressure had built behind his eyes. It shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, but it struck a chord somewhere deep, and he became even more overwhelmed once he spun on his heel. 

Robbe stood in the doorway wearing a Sinterklass robe, cheeks flushed a rosy red to match. He seemed shy, as he still unnecessarily became on some occasions, but his smile was soft and his eyes were bright and Sander’s heart was in overdrive. 

“Surprise,” Robbe said, voice tilting up at the end and almost turning the word into a question. He twiddled his fingers in front of him, and Sander tossed the note aside to grab his hands and tug him into the room. 

He met Robbe in a gentle kiss, hands settling on his hips as Robbe’s slid over his neck and up into his hair. They remained close as Sander nudged their noses together, always attempting to stay in contact. “What’s this?”

“What?” Robbe tugged his hair, smile finally widening. “It’s a gift from the Sint.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Sander quietly laughed as his heart thrummed in adoration. “We were already visited by the Sint.” It hadn’t been quite as extravagant as the previous year, but they had both left out their ‘shoes’ and given each other small gifts, left around Robbe’s house for them to find, some being discovered by the boy’s mother before them. It hadn’t been a huge celebration, but it had been sweet and it had been theirs. Sander hadn’t expected anything more. After last year, he had been happy to keep the surprises to a minimum. 

Robbe shrugged, biting his lip. “Yeah, but, I barely even saw you that day and I didn’t get to spend the night with you. Everything has just been so crazy with these exams and...it wasn’t what I had planned. I wanted to do this but there was so many complications.” He tilted his head back with a groan and Sander snuck a kiss to the exposed line of his throat. 

“Your mother wasn’t feeling well either,” Sander said. “I know.”

Robbe sighed. “Yeah, that, and they didn’t have the stupid robe available to rent and I didn’t get a chance to go out and buy anything.”

“You still had things for me,” Sander pointed out. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” 

He never had to do anything for Sander, and yet he always found a way. He was unbearably sweet at times, attentive to the point of knowing what Sander needed even before he himself did. It was acts like these, acts borne of unabashed love and kindness that made Robbe the angel Sander deemed him.

Robbe was evidently embarrassed by it, too, and yet he had done it for Sander. “Was it not a good idea?”

Sander licked his lips, considering. “I’m just curious as to why.”

Robbe’s fingers danced over Sander’s neck, fluttery and fidgety, and Sander pulled him closer against him by the waist. “You asked me when we met if I had any traditions,” Robbe started slowly, voice quiet. “But I haven’t because...for that you need some kind of permanence, I guess. Something that sticks, that you know will be there with you every week or month or year or whatever to carry a tradition on. I never really had that before.”

It was something that hurt to hear, and it hurt even more to watch Robbe as he spoke about it. He’d turned down his gaze and quietened himself even further. It was part of a silent, deep-rooted hurt that Sander couldn’t touch. He couldn’t reach inside far enough to heal it, and that was maybe what made it worse. 

But it was tit-for-tat, he supposed. Robbe couldn’t reach inside his brain and work his magic fingers and heal Sander’s hurt, either. 

They both had just carved out their own place in each other’s head and hearts, and for Sander, at least, the parts that Robbe owned were bigger than any of the rest. It was hard for him to believe he could have the same effect on anyone. That he could settle into someone’s heart and take up that kind of space. That someone would love him so obviously in return. 

He could never have imagined Robbe, who looked at him then with such sincerity and surety that it was almost overwhelming. 

“But you knew that, too, and you gave me something that could be mine, or ours.” Robbe smiled at him, eyes shining as he settled his hands on Sander’s chest, over the rapid beat of his heart. “With you I can have those things I thought were stupid and actually hated missing out on. With you I want to have these traditions.”

Sander absorbed this, and was almost swept off his feet. The connection wasn’t hard to make. Robbe was being clear with what he meant. Sander still couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t that he was a stranger to permanent fixtures—he had his own traditions, as well as demons that had lived with him forever and wouldn’t move out any time soon. He had his parents, who weren’t always present but were always there. 

He had never expected to have anyone like Robbe. He hadn’t expected to be a permanent fixture for anyone else, had never allowed himself to believe that anyone would want such a thing. It was difficult enough to put up with himself, to imagine living with himself for years to come. To think that anyone would take it on willingly was mind-blowing. 

But he was used to Robbe surprising him. He was used to being floored by the boy’s capacity for care and patience. His supply seemed endless. It was everything Sander had ever wanted and lightyears beyond what he deserved. 

Especially considering his own failed attempt at this exact tradition. It was a miracle Robbe hadn’t run then, but impossible that he wanted to return to it. Sander was sure he had ruined the possibility of any true love for this particular tradition a year prior. 

“I still don’t understand,” he admitted. “I ruined that. I didn’t start a good tradition with you.”

Robbe looked up at him, shaking his head incredulously. “Sander, are you serious?” When Sander simply raised his brows, he went on. “I’m not going to pretend that that night ended the way we wanted, or that there aren’t bad memories for both of us. But those memories will be there no matter what we do now. And Sander...parts of that night are still my best memories. The way you made me feel, and everything you did for me—I’ll never forget that.”

He pressed closer to Sander, raising up on his toes to gift him with a kiss. He nodded at the table behind them. “I can’t afford a penthouse suite but...I can still do something sweet. I know I don’t have the fanciest shower or bed but we do have the house to ourselves.”

He cocked his brows at Sander, swaying closer with that same easy smile, and Sander let out a huff. “Ahh, so that’s the plan, is it? We’re getting very reminiscent.”

Robbe hummed, tilting forward to kiss him again. 

Sander allowed it for a moment before pulling back. “I thought I was supposed to keep my clothes on from now on?”

“Not with me you’re not,” Robbe immediately dismissed. “That was never the deal.”

Sander snorted, and pulled him into another kiss, and pretended not to be as overwhelmed as he was. A part of him wanted to tease Robbe, to point out that this promise of permanence went largely against their minute-by-minute rule. But he didn’t, because he liked it. He _loved_ it, in fact, the idea of spending forever in Robbe’s heart and that Robbe was admitting to thinking about it, as well. He wanted this, with Sander, year after year. He wanted to have traditions with him, or one at least, something that was theirs, that existed only as long as they were together and therefore hopefully for a long time. Sander didn’t argue or tease or turn away, because he wanted this, too, and if he tried to deny it it would only become more obvious. Robbe would see right through him to how harshly his heart was beating, raging away in an attempt to break out of the cold confinement of his ribcage to settle itself instead in Robbe’s pretty hands, careful and caring, warm and gentle every time they touched or held Sander. Robbe was full of something that he would never be able to put into words and he could only try to express through sketches on a page. It would be pointless, by now, for Sander to attempt to deny wanting all of it. 

“This seems like more of a gift for you than for me,” Sander murmured jokingly. “With your shoe and everything.”

Robbe’s face fell. “Do you really not like it? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything better. But I could make you something tasty? Or I could—“

“Robbe,” Sander shook his head, huffing. He couldn’t hold the smile at bay any longer. It took over his face, pushing his lips up into his cheeks, reaching far enough to crinkle his eyes. “I’m teasing. Besides,” he lowered his voice, winking, “nothing tastes better than you.”

This time Robbe flushed, and that was closer to the reaction Sander was looking for. The younger boy turned bashful as he hooked a finger in the collar of Sander’s shirt and clung on. “Well, you do get to unwrap me if you want. It shouldn’t take long.”

He laughed, somewhat nervously, and it took a moment for his meaning to sink in. Then Sander’s eyes widened, and he moved back a step to sweep his gaze over him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“That there’s nothing else under the robe?”

Sander stared at him, then bundled him tightly into his hold and peppered kisses all over his red face. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving, Robin,” he crowed. 

Robbe laughed louder, his precious giggles falling out in bubbles of light, tumbling down Sander’s throat and filling his chest when he connected their lips. It had become clear to Sander early on that this was how Robbe showed his love, through these sweet acts tucked away in private, just for him. It was in his shy but clingy affection, his subtle but brilliant gaze, his casual but extra-wide smile. It was in his slack-jawed kiss and the tight grip of his hands, urging Sander ever closer, merging them into one. 

It was Sander who made it loud—who was able to lift Robbe by the back of the thighs into his arms, who made his intentions clear in the hard press of his lips and the thrust of his tongue. It was Sander that made this thing between them borderline dangerous, even if that was only in stumbling up the stairs blind, Robbe still hoisted in his arms with legs tight at his waist and arms clung around his shoulders. It was Sander that left them laughing into each other’s mouths only to moan a moment later as Robbe nipped at his neck. 

It was Sander and Robbe as one, both in a constant shift of give or take. It was Sander’s hands tight in Robbe’s hair and Robbe’s hands heavy on his waist. It was Sander’s parted lips and Robbe’s glimmering eyes. It was Sander’s eager passion tempered by Robbe’s slow softness, always putting him at ease. 

Sander was no stranger to love and intimacy, and he certainly wasn’t uncomfortable with the prospect, but Robbe made him comfortable to a whole new extent. Sander wasn’t afraid of the other boy stripping him bare in more ways than one. Not with his head full of Robbe’s promise. They were taking it slow even now—minute by minute—but they would do so for years and years. There was a permanence to it, a heat to Robbe’s touch and his kiss that settled over Sander like a brand. It wasn’t a new idea, to think that Robbe had burnt himself right into his veins, but it was a heady sensation to think he could have the same effect. 

He allowed the thought to linger, pondered over it as he gazed down at Robbe’s face, buried his face in Robbe’s neck, came apart in Robbe’s arms where he was settled between his legs. He thought about it, about Robbe’s ability to set him on fire even in the freezing cold, with snow battering against the window and the moon casting them in an icy glow. It was familiar. It did transport him back, as he settled against Robbe’s chest in the comfort of the boy’s bed and his gaze found the red robes tossed in the corner. 

“The Sint is very generous this year,” Sander mumbled, grinning as he nuzzled at Robbe’s neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin. 

Robbe snorted, but gave him a squeeze, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Just for you.”

“I’m a little confused about where his hat and beard went, though.”

“It looks ridiculous,” Robbe groaned. “I was going to. Really. But I don’t pull it off like you do.”

Sander laughed, tilting his head up to kiss the younger’s chin before nuzzling against him again, tightening his arms around him. 

It became difficult, then, the easier it got to remember. He had to take a moment to remind himself of where they were, safe in Robbe’s home, in Robbe’s arms, a year forward. He felt satiated, a lazy afterglow blanketing him. There was still a low buzz running through him, but his mind was quiet. He still felt unbelievably small, wrapped in Robbe’s strong hold, though it was with a peace and clarity he hadn’t felt back then. It was only a minor insecurity that seeped through the cracks, that made his edges a little jagged as Robbe attempted to soften them with each gentle caress. 

“San?” Robbe whispered. 

Sander hummed. 

“You can really tell me if this was a bad idea.”

Sander shook his head, as much as he could while it was pressed to Robbe’s chest. The small, roughly three-foot Christmas tree in the corner twinkled at him as his sluggish mind thought of an answer, a reassurance, the right expression of what he felt. It was just almost too much to put into words. 

“I love you,” he said instead. “And I love you more for this. I want all of my traditions from now on to be with you.”

Robbe pressed a smile to his temple. “Yeah?”

Sander hummed again, this time in affirmation. He tilted his head up, enough to stretch his neck at an awkward angle but get a lovely view of his lover. Robbe looked back with no less adoration and reverence than before, with the sort of dumbfounded awe he’d stared at Sander in during that same fateful night in the hotel and countless times since. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

Robbe smiled and kissed his forehead. Then his nose, and his cheek, and his lips, light and fleeting as a butterfly. Enough to make an imprint but leave Sander wanting more. “I love you.”

Sander’s heart grew three sizes. “I can’t wait to see what you have planned for Christmas now,” he teased.

“Fuck.” Robbe closed his eyes, laughing quietly as he lay a hand over his face. He peeked through his fingers at Sander. “I thought you realised. This is your Christmas present.”

Sander gawked and pushed himself up onto an elbow, gazing down at the younger boy. “No. I at least get to unwrap you again,” he bargained. 

Robbe pursed his lips, shrugging. “Sorry, I think that’s your vouchers used up for the year.”

“Robbe,” Sander whined, groaning as he flopped dramatically back onto his chest, and Robbe laughed and fondly tugged his hair. 

“I’m kidding,” he soothed. “But I hope you know what you’re asking for. Prepare to be mind-blown.”

“Did we swap bodies when you put on that robe, or something?”

Robbe shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “All the way or no way, hm?”

Sander had to kiss him again to shut him up.


End file.
